


The Times That Torment

by Five_star_hellhole



Category: Cassandra Palmer Series - Karen Chance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-17 00:28:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13647585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Five_star_hellhole/pseuds/Five_star_hellhole
Summary: Being immortal never stops the pain when time runs out, being immortal just allows it to haunt. One shot.





	The Times That Torment

He had just barely finished changing when a sudden cataclysmic racket pierced through his mind. The extreme change had him stumbling and nearly slipping on the still wet bathroom floor, the steam from his shower still fogging the mirror. It would have been funny, his “slip” from grace, if it wasn’t for the terror filled voices of master vampires shrieking through his mind. He barreled through his hotel room door, not wasting time. “Casanova can fucking deal with it”, Marco thought as he raced down beige and grey colored hallways and stairwells, fighting through the panic attack that kept threatening to rise. He pushed and flung humans out of his way as he went; “memories can always be wiped later” he thought. 

He could feel his fangs lengthen as he got closer, his bloodlust rising for whoever dared to attack, to inflict harm on her. An image flashed in his mind, two small bodies bloodied in a ditch. He pushed it away ruthlessly, he wouldn’t be late again. “Please” He whispered in his head “To whatever god is listening, please don’t let me be late again”. With that final thought he snarled as he slammed open the door to the suite. The battle haze of his mind nearly overriding his common sense. But he came to a sudden halt inside, the silence deafening but the quiet inside his mind even moreso. His eyes flicked through the room, taking in the broken furniture and strewn glass. 

“Where is she?” He roared in his head, causing the other masters to take the slightest step back before catching themselves, the sound of glass crunching under their shoes. The silence of the room was disarming, there was too much of nothing. There was no heartbeat to indicate the presence of a human, at least a living one. He cut that thought off before it completely took over his good sense. His head snapped to the left where one of his kin came from the bedrooms. The shake of his head indicating she wasn’t there… in either state.

He silently seethed, refusing to panic. He closed his eyes and listened. He could hear them, the humans, scurrying through the hotel, rushing on with their short lives unaware of the predators around them, both the attackers and the protectors. But he didn’t care about them, he cared about her. He strained himself, trying to pick through the clutter of noise, searching for the heartbeat he had memorized. He was moving before he even realized, running down the halls, going lower and lower through the building, listening to the heartbeat thumping out a rhythm of terror and the sound of the battle he should be in but wasn’t. “Always late” he snarled at himself. 

He came to a halt at the mage’s door. The ringing silence worrying from the other side, but this time he could hear the heartbeat. It was slowing down, returning to the music he was used to hearing. His hand reached for the door handle but he stopped himself and dropped it to his side. He could hear the mage moving through the debris towards the heartbeat and he took a breath. If he ran in there he might scare her, hurt her without meaning to. He couldn’t do that. His hands clenched and unclenched at his side as he willed himself to calm down. He cared about her, too much probably sometimes, but she reminded him of his family. In another world she might have been, blonde hair withstanding, he saw her as his bratty little sister. His second chance to do it right. 

He took a breathe he didn’t need. She would need normal after all this and he would give it to her. He reached inside himself, pushing the anger and fear down, and summoned up his best overbearing big brother feeling he could find and slammed open the door. 

His eyes flicked around the room, taking in the bleeding mage and his battered charge. He snarled out his best aggravated brother impression, “The Fuck?!”. She blinked at him, licked her lips and he made a mental note to have food ready for her when they got back to the suite. She took a breath and croaked “I think I freaked out the staff”. 

He caught her before her face could touch the glass and potion covered rug. He pulled her carefully into his arms and cradled her before standing. His face grimacing slightly as the glass slid off her body, blood covering her in little streaks and pin drops. To anyone else he may have looked angry, but he thought the mage, whose eyes never left the bundle in his arms, knew exactly how terrified he felt inside. He turned and began striding from the room and through the hallway making his way back towards the suite. His hand ever so slightly twisting in her hair, his fingers rubbing a few strands as he walked through the deserted hallways; as he reached the suite door he paused and closed his eyes once more.

“Thank you” He whispered in his mind “Thank you to whatever god was listening.” His fingers continued to roll the strands of hair in his hand. This time he wasn’t late.


End file.
